Edwin Arlington Robinson

(22 December 1869 – 6 April 1935 / Maine / United States)

Edwin Arlington Robinson Poems

161. Ballad Of A Ship 1/3/2003
162. Ballad Of Broken Flutes 1/3/2003
163. Reuben Bright 1/3/2003
164. Ballad Of Dead Friends 1/3/2003
165. Afterthoughts 1/3/2003
166. Eros Turannos 1/3/2003
167. Another Dark Lady 1/3/2003
168. Amaryllis 1/3/2003
169. The House On The Hill 1/3/2003
170. Ballad By The Fire 1/3/2003
171. Miniver Cheevy 1/3/2003
172. Mr. Flood's Party 1/3/2003
173. An Old Story 1/3/2003
174. A Happy Man 1/3/2003
175. Richard Cory 12/31/2002

Comments about Edwin Arlington Robinson

  • Michael Walker Michael Walker (2/11/2020 5:47:00 PM)

    Some say that his poetry is old-fashioned, slightly out of date.
    However, I find elegance, craftsmanship and psychological depth in
    Robinson's best poems. To me, his writing endures.

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  • betrufekni (9/24/2019 2:33:00 PM)

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  • richard borda (7/23/2018 12:35:00 PM)

    Silence

    If silence is to avoid the restless crowd
    but go todepths where mystery abounds
    then return with kerygma loud
    tis not silence but heavenly sounds

    1 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Christopher Gozdava (1/11/2012 1:20:00 PM)

    The poem A Happy Man is an example for me of poorly sounding, but a metrically correct poem. One more proof that it is not a form but a final pleasing outcome that makes any art valuable.

    31 person liked.
    36 person did not like.
Best Poem of Edwin Arlington Robinson

Mr. Flood's Party

Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night
Over the hill between the town below
And the forsaken upland hermitage
That held as much as he should ever know
On earth again of home, paused warily.
The road was his with not a native near;
And Eben, having leisure, said aloud,
For no man else in Tilbury Town to hear:

"Well, Mr. Flood, we have the harvest moon
Again, and we may not have many more;
The bird is on the wing, the poet says,
And you and I have said it here before.
Drink to the bird." He raised up to the light
The jug that he had gone ...

Read the full of Mr. Flood's Party

Tasker Norcross

“Whether all towns and all who live in them—
So long as they be somewhere in this world
That we in our complacency call ours—
Are more or less the same, I leave to you.
I should say less. Whether or not, meanwhile,
We’ve all two legs—and as for that, we haven’t—
There were three kinds of men where I was born:
The good, the not so good, and Tasker Norcross.
Now there are two kinds.”

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